chapter Eighteen
Jake glanced at Ivy from across the bistro table. They were sharing a Greek salad and panini sandwiches. They each had a longneck and sat outside on the small patio, letting the sun restore their body’s heat. She hadn’t talked about the boy, not since he’d told her the paramedics were optimistic. And maybe that was okay—Ivy worked on the critical care ward at Children’s. She was used to seeing trauma. Still, tension seemed to make her limbs stiff, her movements less fluid. And she wasn’t eating.
“You okay?”
She looked up. “Sure.”
“Liar,” he accused lightly. “You want to talk about it?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t look so good, did he?”
He’d seen worse. He’d seen dead, and not in any nice way. Ivy had probably seen the same, but for her it was surrounded by medical equipment and professionals.
“He had a broken leg for sure.” And had been in shock. It’d made his skin pale to an
effervescent white, making the blue of his lips and fingertips stand out all the more. “I bet he’s conscious by morning.”
She nodded. “I’ll check on him when I get in.”
She worked tonight. Jake didn’t need to report to base until Tuesday morning. He thought about how he would kill time waiting for her. Go to the gym and work off some of the tension with weights. He had some reading to do in preparation for his training at Quantico in December. He owed his sister a phone call.
“Call me then,” Jake said. He would like to know how the kid was doing, too. “When are you seeing your sister again?”
“Next weekend. You want to come?”
She issued the invitation smoothly, but he noticed tension lift her shoulders.
“Are you sure?”
She tilted her head to the side as she considered the situation. It made her dark hair fall across her shoulder. It caught the sun and cast a red glow.
She nodded. “I always stay with my sister,” she said. “But we could get a room on the strip. I’ve always wanted to stay in one of those luxury hotels with the spa baths--" she waggled her eyebrows at him, “—and champagne delivery.”
“Done,” he said, but her frown didn’t disappear entirely.
“There is something else,” she began, her voice hesitant. “Holly is in recovery mode.” She went on to explain about the crash, her sister’s injuries, the long months of rehabilitation.
“You were in the car?” He felt his gut tighten. He didn’t want to think about Ivy in danger, scared and hurting and pushing herself beyond her limits to do all she could to keep her sister alive.
He’d hated to leave her alone on the water earlier today, too. Though she was with several other people, guides included, she was his responsibility and he trusted no one with her safety.
“I’m sorry, Ivy,” her told her. “That was a bad situation to be in.”
“But I did good,” she said and he could tell she was surprised by her reaction. “Confidence was new to me. At that point, I’d done a number of healthy things for myself—divorced my husband, I had just graduated from the medical program and had my first real job— I was finally standing on my own two feet, you know? And then bahm! I thought it would knock me back a step or two. Instead, I became a woman of action that night. I did what I could and it was enough.” She smiled although she was a little teary.
“And you saved your sister’s life.”
“Yes. And we got another chance, to be sisters. I won’t throw that away.”
“Of course not.” He thought about his own sister and how infrequently he saw her. She called him more than he did her—he excused that with the phone being a woman’s thing. But he could do better. The visit over Thanksgiving would be a good start. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go alone this weekend?”
She gave it some thought, her brown eyes turning inward, then shook her head. “No. I’d like to spend the weekend away with you and my sister is needing me less. She told me so.” Ivy shrugged and tipped her head back to regard him. It was a slightly challenging look and Jake found himself smiling into it. “Are you ready to meet my family, Jake?”
“Born ready,” he told her.
And it was true. Jake wanted to move deeper into Ivy’s world. He wanted to make the connection with the people and things that were important to her. And he would love to sink into one of those big tubs with her, let his hands slide over her soapy body. He totally planned to sip champagne from her navel and a few other places.
Jake was running late. He’d done all he’d planned to do while Ivy was at work—called his sister, put in a couple hours at the gym on base, kicked back at home, reading the manual on new strategies for military leaders—and then decided to pick up breakfast for the both of them before meeting her at her apartment as they’d discussed.
Only he decided fresh was better than anything delivered through a window and he’d stopped at Whole Foods for fruit, made-to-order omelettes, cheese, and bread that was still hot from the oven. By the time he was knocking on Ivy’s door, he was a good forty minutes behind schedule.
She answered the door wearing very little lace and nothing else. He could see the dusky peaks of her breasts through the material, even the indention of her navel and the downy curls beneath. His stomach muscles tightened. His cock filled and pressed against the fly of his jeans.
“I thought you changed your mind.” Her smile said otherwise. “I was just about to climb into bed.”
“Then I’m just in time.” He stepped over the threshold, into her personal space, and felt her thighs brush against his legs. It did crazy things to his pulse. “Damn,” he said, “I can’t get enough of you.”
“So why are your frowning,” she asked. She rolled onto her toes, pressing her soft curves against his torso, and smoothed her fingers over the creases in his forehead. “You know I’m a pretty sure thing, soldier.”
He held up the bag. The warm, yeasty aroma of the bread and the sweet onion from the omelettes drifted around them. Ivy fell to her heels and pressed a hand to her stomach, which growled in anticipation.
“I am hungry,” she laughed. “And that smells heavenly.”
“So do you.” He loved the citrusy smell of her shampoo, the way it mixed with her warm, female scent. He lowered his face to the slope of her neck and ran his lips over the tendon there, all the way up to her ear. “You taste even better,” he murmured. His cock throbbed and he pulled her hips to his, hoping the soft pressure of her belly would ease some of his pain. But that plan failed miserably when she undulated against him. His hand spread over the lace barely covering her ass and he dipped his fingers easily into her sweet apex. She was just warming up. He circled her * and thought about how easy it would be to open his fly and slide right into her.
But then her stomach protested again and Jake stepped back, wondering where the super human strength came from. His hands capped her slim shoulders and he said, “I’m going to feed you first.” Even if it killed him. He picked the bag up from the floor, not remembering when he’d dropped it. Of course, he’d be hard pressed to remember his own name at this point. He strode to the small table next to the bay window and began removing Styrofoam containers of food. Ivy came up behind him, didn’t stop until her body was flush against his back, and slid her hands down his legs. She caressed upward, trailing her nails over the inside of his thighs, until she palmed his pulsing cock and gave it a teasing squeeze.
“Ivy, honey.” He placed a hand over hers to stop her. “I haven’t come in my pants since I was fourteen.” He turned, but kept a few inches between them. “It wasn’t pretty then. It’d be even worse now.”
She chuckled but drew back her hands and placed them on her hips. “Okay, so feed me, Jake. But then I’m going to return the favor,” she enticed, her voice sultry and full of meaning.
The image of her over him, her sweet body swaying above his mouth and her taste so thoroughly on his lips, spun out in front of him. It made his whole body clench and he nearly dropped the container he was holding. Ivy watched his reaction. Her eyes flared with awareness. Damn, he would like to have her again like that. Know nothing else of the world except her taste, her smell, the cries that bottled in her throat and escaped with his name on her lips.
He popped a grape from the vine and offered it to her. When she opened to take it, she dragged her teeth over his fingers. Their eyes locked and held as she chewed and then swallowed the fruit. She took his hand and wrapped her tongue around his finger as she reached for his erection, straining against the zipper of his jeans. She gave it a firm caress that shuddered through his body.
“You are so damn hot,” he said. “I’ve never needed as much as I need you.”
“I ache for you, Jake,” she murmured. “And no one else will do.”
She popped the button on his jeans.
“Food,” he reminded her.
“You’re all I need.” She lowered the zipper over his erection.
Jake pulled a squared piece of cantaloupe from the container and pressed it against her lips. She took it, but lowered her head to watch her progress. He watched her watching him, her eyes heavy with desire. For him. It was powerful. She touched her index finger to the tip of his shaft, where a dark spot bloomed on his briefs.
“Don’t come without me, Jake.”
He caught her hands. “Then you have to stop touching me, babe.”
Her lips pursed in a small pout, though she quickly thought better of it—his woman of action. The thought made him smile until he realized that her intentions had shifted and that he was going to be pushed beyond his limits in a matter of seconds.
Ivy sat down on the edge of the bed and held his gaze while she began to run her fingers over the lace-and-nothing garment she was wearing.
“What are you doing?” His breath thickened. His heart kicked against his rib cage.
“If you’re not going to play with me, Jake, I’m going to have to play with myself.”
Her bold words zinged from his ears straight to his dick. It tented his briefs further and hurt like hell. He fisted his hands and shut his eyes, desperate to keep himself from coming on the spot.
“Watch me, Jake,” she asked. “That’s the least you can do.”
“I want more than that,” he said, opening his eyes.
“Too late,” she taunted.
Her fingers drifted over her breasts and her nipples puckered, begging for his lips. Her breath fluttered in her throat, creating a whimpering sound that made his knees weak. While he watched, she spread her thighs and skimmed her fingertips over the swatch of material at her core. She threw her head back as she gasped.
“You could be inside me right now,” she said, and popped first one, and then the final two snaps at her crotch. The material sprang away, revealing tender pink folds that glistened with her need.
“I’ll fix that,” he promised. He pushed his jeans off, peeled his briefs over his erection, and let them drop to the floor.
“No,” she said. “You don’t want to touch me, Jake.”
“The hell I don’t,” he growled.
She opened her eyes, which were hazy with need. “I promised you I wouldn’t push you. I can do this for myself, Jake.” Her finger plunged into her core and she gasped his name. He could tell by the thin burst of surprise in her voice that she realized she’d taken her game too far. He eyes flared with her need. She wanted him. Only him. She’d said as much.
He tossed his shirt to the floor and stepped in front of her.
“I’m here,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”
He nudged her knees so that she opened more. His cock was thick with need. His balls
tight. He pushed gently at her shoulder and followed her down to the mattress. And just before he entered her, before thought shattered and he exploded in a blinding show of light, he framed her face with his hands and sank deeply into her eyes.
It was this connection that mattered more to him than anything else. Without Ivy there wouldn’t be this heat, there wouldn’t be this need to pleasure and be pleasured.
She shouted his name as she came and it quickened his own passion. His hips flexed and he pumped into her, his balls hitting her ass, her sex so tight around him it was sweet torture. And he let himself go. He wanted to trust. He wanted to dive into her and never surface. This time, when reality began to fade into that bright light, when the rushing began in his ears, he didn’t push it back but embraced it, as Ivy wanted him to do. And the intensity it brought to his orgasm was nothing short of divine. It wasn’t leaping into fire, it was becoming it.
He surfaced slowly. His limbs were heavy but he loved the feel of her softer skin clinging through sweat to his own. He had rolled off her and she had curled into his side, her dark hair fanned out across his chest and tickling against his neck. He lifted his hand and stroked her from her shoulder to the dip in her waist. And he felt her body tremble. She drew a breath and it was wet and hiccupped in her throat. It shot through Jake like an electric current. He pushed up on an elbow and cupped her cheek.
She was crying. His palm was damp with her tears. “Ivy? Sweetheart?” He turned her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Are you okay?” His eyes skimmed down her body looking for marks from his teeth or hands, but her skin was glowing, a creamy caramel that enticed him. He slipped his hand between her legs and lifted one. “Did I hurt you, Ivy?”
She shook her head and rubbed a hand under her nose.
He looked anyway, separating her. But the lovely pink of her sex was unblemished.
She slapped at his arm lightly and when he turned back to her he noticed a deeper flush to her cheeks.
“Jake,” she protested and tried to close her legs. “You didn’t hurt me,” she said. “I was just a little overwhelmed. Women get that way sometimes when---when—“
“When what, Ivy?” He pressed, tracing the curve of her cheek with a finger.
“When something as beautiful as that happens.”
Yes, that. More than sex. Deeper. Soul-searing. Melding. And he realized that this was it, what Ivy was talking about, what she insisted on—the complete fusing of himself with her that can only be accomplished when he truly let go. And she openly received.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
“We are,” she agreed. She was sleepy and her voice was heavy.
They’d had a long day, beginning with the kayaking tour that had ended when they’d found the kid literally dangling by a thread. They’d gone from there to lunch, had run errands together and then Jake had dropped Ivy off at her apartment so that she could get ready for work. She hadn’t had the chance for even a cat nap, although Jake would have made the time if Ivy had wanted it. But the morning’s drama had caused a current of anxiety to hum along in her blood. She’d told him she wouldn’t relax completely until she saw the boy for herself, at the hospital, and knew that he was okay. She’d texted him an update before her shift: Kid’s name Jeremy. Bkn leg, concussion, awake n feeling it. Parents send big thank u.
There weren’t always happy endings. Both he and Ivy knew it. They lived it. But every win felt good and he was glad she’d gotten it this time. He would like to lasso life and hold it steady for her. An impossible task, and yet, in some way that was exactly what they did for each other. So this was love.
Jake lay back on the pillows and pulled her close. He had fallen in love with Ivy. The thought curled around his heart. It was a warm fit, like slipping into a glove. A perfect fit. He drifted off thinking about the obstacles they would face and the best ways to overcome them. And he didn’t doubt that either would happen. He was a military man. He would deploy again and they would face long stretches of separation, but they had the tools they needed to remain a strong couple. If they continued to talk to each other. If they prioritized. And compromised. All of which they’d been pretty good at so far.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d insisted on taking their time, finally having the time to put into a relationship, to let it develop naturally. Inside a week, Ivy had pinned his heart. But life was crazy like that.
He knew she was sleeping when her body relaxed deeply into his. He stroked her back because he loved the feel of her skin, could feel through its softness her vitality, and he wanted her truly settled in before he drifted off.
The dream moved sinuously around his brain, not fully developing until Jake was sound asleep. He was back in Afghanistan. The desert wind swept across the flat plains, kicking up sand and debris. He slipped his goggles into place, but hated even the slight limitations it placed on his peripheral vision. He was holding rear, his men scrambling ahead, leading the hostages they’d reclaimed. If they made it back to rendezvous as planned, the entire execution of the mission would come out at twenty-two minutes. Years of training tested in the time it took to boil eggs.
The radio squawked in his ear, the static an annoying rub. He’d counted heads, listened to the voices of his men through the transmissions, but looked back anyway. Someone was missing. But how could that be? The building, primitive and slapped together out of plywood and plaster, shuddered in the wind. The windows had screening stapled over them—his men had punched out two of them in order to pull the three hostages to safety. There was a desolate kind of quite to it now, even though Jake knew there were armed guards in an interior room and two posted outside, one at the front door, the other at the side door. The hostages had been chained to a metal post and there had been little chance of them escaping on their own; the guards had grown complacent and it had worked to Jake’s advantage. Not a single shot had been fired yet.
He saw a shadowy movement behind the third screen—the one they hadn’t removed. Jake felt his heart kick into high gear. Had they forgotten someone? Intelligence reported and confirmed three hostages. The two men and the single woman they had recovered matched their physical descriptions, the photos they were given, and each had confirmed their identities to Jake as they were pulled from the structure.
The figure in the window was female. He could tell from the delicate features otherwise obscured by the mesh screening. He saw a waving motion, and the glint of metal around her wrists. Yes, another hostage. Jake didn’t know who, only that he couldn’t leave her behind. He alerted his men by radio and ordered them to continue onto rendezvous. He was going back alone. With each step toward the structure, dread grew heavier in his gut. He was struck by the shape of her body, what little was visible, and realized a familiarity. By the time he ripped away the screening he’d already known—it was Ivy and she was calmly waiting for him, believing he would save her. He holstered his pistol and grabbed her with both hands, but before he could lift her through the window, he heard the air burning with gun fire and felt the searing blitz of a bullet burrowing into his skull.
He woke with a startled cry. Knew immediately that he was in Ivy’s apartment, in her bed, and she was still cradled against his body, warm and secure. He stared at the ceiling and breathed deeply through his nose, willing his heart to steady, the tension to release his muscles.
The mission hadn’t gone down like that. Not at all. It had been by the book, except for Arturo taking gunfire. Two men had slipped through the windows, cut through the chains securing the hostages to the post, and had lifted each of them to freedom. Jake had helped them to their feet, sought confirmation of their names, and passed them onto each of three waiting soldiers who guided them to rendezvous. Then Jake had taken the hand of the last man inside in order to pull him to safety—Arturo. Thirty seconds inside the building. Jake had stood post while his men scattered into the hills, a crab-like scuttle that increased their safety. Jake had followed, but by that time, the escape had been discovered, the alarm sounded, and Jake had trouble shaking the insurgents. They had fired in a haphazard pattern, not having a single, sure target, and Arturo had been picked out randomly. It could have been any of them. Training had made the mission a success. Luck had kept all of them, except Arturo, alive.
Could Jake ask Ivy to buy into that? The always not knowing if he’d come back to her? It wasn’t a matter of whether Ivy was strong enough for that kind of life; she was a woman of
courage. But was it fair?
He felt her hand flutter against his chest. She lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed into his eyes, hers still soft with sleep.
“Bad dream?”
She trusted him when she had plenty of reason not to. An ex-husband who beat her, a father who’d left her. Could he put her though a service chaplain arriving on their doorstep and a flag-draped coffin? It pained him to even think about it. He felt himself wince and Ivy’s hand came up, her delicate fingers soothing his brow.
Jake folded her hand into his and held her gaze.
“There are no promises when you’re military,” he said. He watched awareness grow on her face, sharpening her features.
“There are no promises in life period,” she told him.
“I’m a greater risk,” he pointed out.
“I knew that going in.”
And maybe she did, but it took on bigger significance when the military moved into your life. It wasn’t something that could be explained. It had to be lived to understand it completely.
Jake cupped her head and drew her close for a kiss and then he settled her in his arms and stroked her hair back from her face. Her eyelids fluttered and she wrapped her arm around his waist and drifted back to sleep.